


It's the Phone Call... Isn't?

by Komorebiwalk



Category: Shubh Mangal Zyada Saavdhan (2020)
Genre: Alternative Perspective, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Memories, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Light Angst, M/M, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Komorebiwalk/pseuds/Komorebiwalk
Summary: Thanks for reading 😊
Relationships: Kartik Singh/Aman Tripathi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	It's the Phone Call... Isn't?

  
The room was stark dark. The only light coming through the window was midnight moonlight. The moonlight vaguely illuminated its path and fell over the floor. The moon was occasionally hiding behind the clouds, so the state of visibility of that room was changing frequently.

He could only saw vaguely visible legs. _He_ was sitting on the floor, leaning his back against the wall the way he was sitting. The window was in between them and was casting a play of hide and seek of moonlight... fifty-five minutes had passed since they sat there in acute silence.

He could feel a sudden rush of emotions, something overwhelming...something he never felt before... It was too much to take at one time...but it is what it is...his eyes were filled with tears...

 _His_ eyes were too...

-"Aman..."

  
-"Kartik...leave me alone", Aman's voice heard like a groan, "Don't oblige me to bottle up my rage upon you!'

  
Again silence embarked on.

  
After a while, 

  
" KARTIK!!', Aman screamed and no sooner had Kartik could say anything than he went to the study room with quick steps. He shut the door from inside. While shutting, the door made a bitter noise.

  
Aman never felt a rage so deep before. It was piercing. His brain was too hot to think over other aspects. He sank into the chair and tried to read a book. The words were not able to remotely pass through his brain. After a minute or two, he thrusted the book over the study table and left the chair. The chair got collided with the wall and bounced back with a force.  
Aman tried to listen to the radio ( at 12:45 a.m?). Then played a few from his favourite playlist but to his surprise, that made him feel even worse. Twenty-five minutes of a futile effort to cheering himself left him in utter frustration.  
He knows a lot number of people who get their mood uplifted by doing hobbies and other chores. But from childhood, he is a kind of guy who can't do a mere task with full satisfaction if there are fragments of thoughts haunting him continuously. He could only deliver his best performance if his mind rests in acute peace.   
His intense concentration and dedication always brought him good marks. He was the favourite student of many teachers. Surely itit was an advantage...his academic degree was really praiseworthy...but you know, advantage and disadvantage are just two sides of the same coin...it just require someone to flip it...

  
He was in 10th grade...he can clearly recall the day... Those bullies bullied him for being gay...mean rumours spread like a forest flame...in addition, the class schedule showed that there would be a class from that strict science teacher who had declared to take the class test ... Aman was not well prepared.  
The class began and eventually, it was his turn. He stood up, stumbled upon words, ended up giving a messy, disorganised answer far away from the kind of answer he was expected to deliver.

  
"Do you even know what are you trying to say?", the teacher said.

  
" S-sir...I-"

  
-"Just shut up!"

  
Chill ran through the spine of every student present there.

  
" So, you too have gained those filthy qualities?...may we expect out first boy banking classes afterwards?"

  
This teacher never spared any student. Every student should be ideal, according to him. Smallest deviation from a student's ideal manner is ... sin like the thing to him. Especially when the student is like him.

  
" Is there any kind of other things you are currently involved more than studies?", his voice clearly bore an ironical tone, "Maybe a guardian call will be suitable for you."

  
Why he always concludes with the threat of GUARDIAN CALL!...The whole class giggled. But Aman's vision turned vague. Few drops fell upon the desk...

  
It was recess when a girl came and informed him that that teacher had called him. Guardian call!...really?!...Aman's throat went dry...

  
Aman was standing near to the entrance of the headmaster's room. "The teacher said to wait here", saying this the girl left. A man stood there like a statue, every worse possibility was wandering through his mind...

  
After sometimes, the teacher came out of the room. He looked at him. A man never had the courage to make eye contact and this time it was seemingly impossible...he felt an internal shudder.  
To his surprise, the teacher placed one of his hands over his head and uttered just two words, 

  
_" Be brave_..."

  
The teacher placed his hands over his shoulders and after some time went to the teachers' room.

  
The warmth he felt that day...the solace he felt...like a father comforting his son...

  
HIS FATHER!!

  
Shankar Tripathi, the man always over-concerned about him. But today it felt to cross the limits...

  
He could have borne everything else...literally anything...but the slap...in front of Kartik...

"The fest was aMaZiNg!!", Kartik screamed.  
" _Saale, mai na keheta to tu aata?_ ", Aman said while unwrapping the paper label from the cornetto. " I should have left you at home with papa", he giggled.  
Kartik gave a look with chibi eyes. He quickly took the big first bite from his lover's cornetto.  
" _Haat, saale_!", Aman said," You just finished your ice cream!"

  
The fest was really amazing. The fireworks...the walk on the esplanade...everything was engraved deep in their hearts as precious memories...actually whatever memory it is...when Kartik is with him, everything becomes special...

  
When the reached home, it was 10:45. Shankar Tripathi opened the door with gloomy eyes. An instant question came,

  
" Does your 9:45 mean 10:45?!"

  
Both of them felt a chill for a moment.

  
-"Do you use your phone just to take selfies!?"

  
Aman quickly took the phone out of his pocket. Shit! 22 missed calls from papa!

  
Before they could say anything for their defence, a strong slap came to Aman...Kartik was not spared too...

  
After all, Aman Tripathi is the son of Shankar Tripathi!...he just made eye contact with his father and then went upstairs without delivering a single word.

  
" I am not a child! I know where to go when to return!...", his mind was bursting. He sat near the window. Didn't even realise when Kartik came there. After sometimes he felt Kartik threw something to him and he just left to his room after screaming at Kartik...

  
Suddenly he felt something. Did he say something harsh to Kartik?!... Why the hell he always does this kind of stupidity!... Just because Kartik would patiently listen to every word of him, doesn't mean he can always show his anger to him...

  
He felt guilt.

  
His mind was a bit cool to think properly. He opened the door of the room and went near to the window. No, Kartik was not there. He searched all the rooms but didn't find him. He returned to the window. There he noticed something. A ball of twisted paper. Maybe Kartik hit him with this earlier, for which he felt disgusted.

  
Aman delivered it to his pocket and descended downstairs. He could saw rays of light peeping through the semi-opened door. He headed to the door and saw something that left him in complete calm vanishing all his miseries and rage he felt earlier.

  
Kartik was in between the arms of Shankar Tripathi. Kartik was smiling with teary eyes. Shankar Tripathi placed one of his arms behind his back and the other over his head. Kartik said,  
" _Papa...sorry...hame khud aapko call karna chahiye_ _tha_..."

  
Shankar Tripathi said tendering his hair,   
" You little boys will never know how does it feel...until you become father yourself."

  
Kartik sank deep between his arms and said,  
" That slap... I am so glad I got it... _Aap itne fikar_ _karate ho aap!_..."

  
A man felt like he was spellbound. After a moment he unfolded the paper ball and suddenly rushed to the room and collapsed to them.

  
-" Aman!...", both of them exclaimed.  
" _Mujhe maaf kardo papa..._ I am sorry..."  
Aman cried...Kartik cried...their papa cried.

  
Shankar Tripathi tightened the hug...he had two precious gems to comfort...his idiot sons...

  
On the floor near to the door, there was a paper... Some sentences were written on it...

  
" _You_ _are crying... I am crying..._  
  
_Is_ _it for the slap?..._

  
_It's_ _for the phone call...isn't?..."_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading 😊


End file.
